I went online and looked at older dogs, younger dogs, rescue dogs everywhere around the country, even  breeders' dogs thinking that might ensure that we could find another exceptional combination of heart and brains like Dan's.  Some of the photos were awesomely beautiful and impressive, but none grabbed us; we concluded that our hearts were just too full of Dan to be able to love another dog. 

One day I was looking at a local shepherd rescue site (sheprescue.org) and saw a photo that made my heart stop, because the dog's eyes were the perfect image of Dan's, looking straight at and through me.  I didn't even see the rest of his body, and realized only later that this poor dog was a very tragic case, that they had had to raise nearly ten thousand dollars to give him the surgeries he needed, and surgery after surgery was failing. 

They surmised that two-year-old "Troy" had been cut and then burned with acid, leaving a long gaping wound on his back that exposed his spine and was almost 10 inches in diameter.  Oh, and for good measure, his right ear had also been cut off, leaving only a trace of what had been a breeder's tattoo.  All of the expensive skin graft surgeries they had tried had failed.  The resourceful folks at Westside German Shepherd Rescue in Los Angeles (sheprescue.org) then turned to a burn specialist, who had one last desperate idea.  They placed bands around him, kept him mostly immobile, and slowly but surely stretched the skin across his back to close the wound.  This had been going on for many weeks when I first saw his face in this photo, but after I read his story I decided to forget all about looking for a dog to buy or adopt, and instead to donate all that we could afford to help this dog.

Sara, who by that time was traveling everywhere with us in our constant attempts to cheer her up, of course came with me for my first visit to meet Troy.  No exaggeration here, but it was as clear as day that her reaction to seeing his eyes and head were the same as mine.  She was transfixed looking at him.  And he at her!  Maybe he was thinking she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, or maybe he just sensed her feelings.  Whatever the explanation, there was a very strong connection between them. 

To make a long story short, Sara and I visited Troy plenty after that, and the folks at the hospital began to let us all sit on the grass outside together.  Sara and Troy just beamed with joy, happy to just sit there together. Troy still had to wear that horrible lamp shade, but he endured it stoically.  So many people had watched and donated for his surgeries, that we were near the bottom of a long list of people who wanted to adopt him, so I held little hope for that dream.  But the rescue group had seen how bonded Sara and I were to him and he to us.  Right up to the last day of his release, he was supposed to go to someone else.  Sara and I came to see him one last time to wish him well and say goodbye ... but some things are just meant to be, I guess.  Troy and Sara wanted to be together, the rescuers and veterinary office people saw that plainly, and even the woman who had planned to adopt him decided to give him up.  Incredulous at this beautiful unfolding of events, and with their permission to change his name to "Ford", we hoisted Ford up into our truck -- a precious routine of over eight years now, since he still cannot jump that high -- and he and Sara began a lifetime together.  They remained inseparable until she died just two years ago. 

It took some months before Ford started to regain his muscles and coordination, but all that he needed returned.  Incredible as it is, considering the trauma he had been through, Ford is the most peaceful, gracious, well-behaved dog we have ever known.  And all who have met him in all circumstances remark similarly.  He simply will not go 'negative' toward anyone or anything.  His demeanor defuses the most aggressive of dogs, and other animals -- of all species (and he has been exposed to many!) -- seem to recognize his kindness and quickly feel relaxed and comfortable with him. 

In the year before Sara died at age 15, she lost much of her eyesight and hearing.  Ford took over as her guide dog most of the time, so our hikes up the local canyons continued as if there were no problem, Ford keeping her on the trail and away from steep sections. 

During our past eight years, Ford has been surrogate uncle to many young orphan and rescue animals, domestic and wild.  MaeBelle was one very special orphaned raccoon who lived wild in the mountains around our home, but continued to return to her childhood home for five years after we had raised her.  She was bonded to both Ford and Sara, and the last time we saw her, she returned mysteriously after a several-month absence, at exactly the time that Sara was dying (about three years ago now).  MaeBelle spent that night sleeping near Sara on Sara's dog bed, but she was gone by morning.  We never saw MaeBelle again.  We put Sara down two days later.